Ordinarily, hearing another woman claim she didn’t mean to interfere in a relationship would have made Yvonne feel nothing but contempt. It always came off as insincere, a shallow plea for sympathy.
But when it came to Ella, something felt different.
No matter how much she tried to stay indifferent, she couldn’t bring herself to resent her. Perhaps it was because she had subconsciously projected her past regrets about Stella onto Ella—wishing, perhaps, to prevent someone else from repeating the mistakes she herself had made.
She considered Ella a friend, even if she had never said it out loud. And that made this entire situation more difficult.
“I understand that Weston is… someone easy to fall for,” Yvonne began softly, her tone more sympathetic than judgmental. “Even after he got together with Guinevere, there were still plenty of actresses trying to get close to him. Not to mention all those society women who’ve had their eyes on him for years.”
She stirred her cappuccino absentmindedly, gaze drifting to the window.
“Back in high school, Guinevere liked him too. But he never showed her much interest. He always treated her with this… cold distance. I can’t even pinpoint when that changed—maybe after they graduated from university? Their relationship seemed to shift somewhere along the line.”
Yvonne caught herself. She had strayed too far from the topic. With a small sigh, she brought her focus back.
“My point is—you need to think this through. He’s married now. And he has a child. His partner is Guinevere, one of the most well-known actresses in the industry. I don’t have to tell you how popular she is. If anything about this were to get out…” She paused, her eyes meeting Stella’s. “It could ruin your life. Things go viral so quickly now. People aren’t kind.”
Stella didn’t speak. Her fingers tightened slightly around the cup. She knew Yvonne was speaking out of concern.
When she remained silent, Yvonne leaned in just slightly.
“How far has it gone between you two?” she asked carefully.
Stella immediately looked up and shook her head, both hands raised as if to ward off the implication. “There’s nothing between us.”
Her firm denial took Yvonne by surprise. But the discomfort on Stella’s face didn’t escape her.
“…Could it be that he has feelings for you, and you just don’t dare to reject him?”
It clicked all at once.
Thinking back, it started to make sense.
Ella had never seemed like someone who would pursue a man like Weston. Even during their first encounter, Yvonne had sensed a strange tension between them. Weston had shown an unexpected attentiveness, and Ella’s reaction that night at the restaurant—how uncomfortable she had looked—was far from flirtatious.
No, it hadn’t been mutual.
Weston was the one who initiated it. And Ella had been left to bear it.
Yvonne’s expression hardened. Her voice lowered, sharp with realization.
“Tell me the truth… did he force you?”
The question hung heavy between them. Then another thought struck her.
“Wait. That day when you were tricked into going to Lowe Garden—did you see him then?”
Stella gave a small nod.
That night had been the turning point. Before then, Weston had only hovered on the edge of her life, unsure. But after that encounter, he had grown bold—demanding.
Yvonne clenched her jaw. “I knew it!” she snapped, slamming her palm onto the table with a loud thud. Heads turned in their direction, but she didn’t care.
“There were rumors going around at the time,” she said bitterly. “People said Weston had met some woman at Lowe Garden. Most thought it was made up, but the details sounded too real. Guinevere was even looking for the woman—but then it was like the whole thing got covered up.”
She looked at Stella, her expression filled with guilt.
“This is my fault,” she muttered. “If I hadn’t sent you there, none of this would’ve happened. You wouldn’t have ended up in the wrong place. You wouldn’t have seen him.”
Her voice wavered. “And I… I even accused you of being the other woman.”
What chance did someone like Ella have when faced with a man like Weston Ford? He had everything—wealth, power, influence. And she had none of it.
Stella managed a faint smile and shook her head. “It’s not your fault, Yvonne. Please don’t blame yourself.”
Yvonne’s brows furrowed. “But what will you do now?”
Her voice softened again, laced with concern.
“You know Guinevere. She’s not the type to let things go. Whether Weston forced you or not—she’ll come after you.”
Stella lowered her gaze. Her fingers trembled faintly against the cup.
“…I know.”
Of course she knew.
It was Guinevere’s wrath that had cost her the only child she ever had.
Ordinarily, hearing another woman claim she didn’t mean to interfere in a relationship would have made Yvonne feel nothing but contempt. It always came off as insincere, a shallow plea for sympathy.
But when it came to Ella, something felt different.
No matter how much she tried to stay indifferent, she couldn’t bring herself to resent her. Perhaps it was because she had subconsciously projected her past regrets about Stella onto Ella—wishing, perhaps, to prevent someone else from repeating the mistakes she herself had made.
She considered Ella a friend, even if she had never said it out loud. And that made this entire situation more difficult.
“I understand that Weston is… someone easy to fall for,” Yvonne began softly, her tone more sympathetic than judgmental. “Even after he got together with Guinevere, there were still plenty of actresses trying to get close to him. Not to mention all those society women who’ve had their eyes on him for years.”
She stirred her cappuccino absentmindedly, gaze drifting to the window.
“Back in high school, Guinevere liked him too. But he never showed her much interest. He always treated her with this… cold distance. I can’t even pinpoint when that changed—maybe after they graduated from university? Their relationship seemed to shift somewhere along the line.”
Yvonne caught herself. She had strayed too far from the topic. With a small sigh, she brought her focus back.
“My point is—you need to think this through. He’s married now. And he has a child. His partner is Guinevere, one of the most well-known actresses in the industry. I don’t have to tell you how popular she is. If anything about this were to get out…” She paused, her eyes meeting Stella’s. “It could ruin your life. Things go viral so quickly now. People aren’t kind.”
Stella didn’t speak. Her fingers tightened slightly around the cup. She knew Yvonne was speaking out of concern.
When she remained silent, Yvonne leaned in just slightly.
“How far has it gone between you two?” she asked carefully.
Stella immediately looked up and shook her head, both hands raised as if to ward off the implication. “There’s nothing between us.”
Her firm denial took Yvonne by surprise. But the discomfort on Stella’s face didn’t escape her.
“…Could it be that he has feelings for you, and you just don’t dare to reject him?”
It clicked all at once.
Thinking back, it started to make sense.
Ella had never seemed like someone who would pursue a man like Weston. Even during their first encounter, Yvonne had sensed a strange tension between them. Weston had shown an unexpected attentiveness, and Ella’s reaction that night at the restaurant—how uncomfortable she had looked—was far from flirtatious.
No, it hadn’t been mutual.
Weston was the one who initiated it. And Ella had been left to bear it.
Yvonne’s expression hardened. Her voice lowered, sharp with realization.
“Tell me the truth… did he force you?”
The question hung heavy between them. Then another thought struck her.
“Wait. That day when you were tricked into going to Lowe Garden—did you see him then?”
Stella gave a small nod.
That night had been the turning point. Before then, Weston had only hovered on the edge of her life, unsure. But after that encounter, he had grown bold—demanding.
Yvonne clenched her jaw. “I knew it!” she snapped, slamming her palm onto the table with a loud thud. Heads turned in their direction, but she didn’t care.
“There were rumors going around at the time,” she said bitterly. “People said Weston had met some woman at Lowe Garden. Most thought it was made up, but the details sounded too real. Guinevere was even looking for the woman—but then it was like the whole thing got covered up.”
She looked at Stella, her expression filled with guilt.
“This is my fault,” she muttered. “If I hadn’t sent you there, none of this would’ve happened. You wouldn’t have ended up in the wrong place. You wouldn’t have seen him.”
Her voice wavered. “And I… I even accused you of being the other woman.”
What chance did someone like Ella have when faced with a man like Weston Ford? He had everything—wealth, power, influence. And she had none of it.
Stella managed a faint smile and shook her head. “It’s not your fault, Yvonne. Please don’t blame yourself.”
Yvonne’s brows furrowed. “But what will you do now?”
Her voice softened again, laced with concern.
“You know Guinevere. She’s not the type to let things go. Whether Weston forced you or not—she’ll come after you.”
Stella lowered her gaze. Her fingers trembled faintly against the cup.
“…I know.”
Of course she knew.
It was Guinevere’s wrath that had cost her the only child she ever had.
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